


Misunderstanding

by Stariceling



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sequel, lime (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-15
Updated: 2007-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-05 10:32:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stariceling/pseuds/Stariceling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Love Triange. The spirit of the ring defends his host's feelings, but what has he done to Honda?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I should point out this is meant to be a sequel to another Honda/Bakura fic called ‘Love Triangle.’ I think it should still make sense without having read that first, but it wouldn’t hurt.

Bakura didn’t know what to do. He never knew quite how to react when Honda’s fingers slipped into his pants and curled suggestively at his waist. Still, he knew what was going to come next.

“Ready to go to bed?” Honda’s lips touched softly against Bakura’s neck just below his ear. He was asking what Bakura wanted to do, not where he wanted to be. Would he like to get into bed with Honda, where they would end up touching and kissing until neither of them could think straight, or would he rather just go to sleep?

“Yes.”

Honda nuzzled his ear and asked playfully, “with me?”

The first time he had asked that Bakura thought it was a joke. Now he knew better. “Only,” he returned Honda’s teasing tone, “if you think you can handle it.”

Honda’s arms tightened their hold on Bakura’s waist, his lips hovered just short of a kiss. “I’ll do my best,” he whispered before pressing his mouth against Bakura’s. Bakura clenched his hands on Honda’s shoulders, only wanting to press against his boyfriend.

Eventually Honda released Bakura’s lips long enough to whisper, “let’s try this again.”

Bakura’s face burned in embarrassment. Every time Honda spent the night with him, and they spent a lot of nights together now, he would try to ease their relationship to the next level. Each time Bakura knew that as soon as he asked Honda to stop or even wait that would be the end of it. Honda would just hold him until morning, refusing to even kiss, with the argument that he didn’t want to do anything to rush Bakura.

“Your room?” Honda suggested innocently. Bakura shook his head. Sometimes just having Honda press him down on his bed could unnerve him, and if Honda picked up on that it would be over too soon.

“Right here,” Bakura insisted. He lay back on the couch, and pulled Honda down on top of himself to make sure that his wishes were met.

Honda wasn’t about to complain. Already their mouths were locked together and Honda had his hand up under Bakura’s shirt, exploring his chest.

It wasn’t until Honda started to pull Bakura’s shirt up that Bakura started to panic. He didn’t want Honda to see. He grabbed Honda’s hands and forced them back to his waist.

Honda paused, and even though Bakura tried to distract him with insistent kisses he realized that something was wrong.

“Don’t you want me to see you?” Honda’s hand was back under Bakura’s shirt, stroking him.

Shivering a little at his own daring, Bakura shifted Honda’s hands to his waist. “Wouldn’t you rather get these off first?”

Honda raised an eyebrow at him. Bakura knew what he was thinking. Honda couldn’t figure out why he would be happy to lose his pants but not his shirt. He seemed to decide that Bakura actually couldn’t handle either because he sat up, hands coming away from Bakura entirely.

“Honda,” Bakura protested. He didn’t want it to be over so soon.

“It’s okay that you’re shy.” Honda arched and stretched like a cat, pulling off his own shirt over his head. “I like that.” Bakura had never really stopped to think before on just how sexy Honda could look. Now he could feel his blush getting worse just watching. Honda must have noticed this too, because he looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Hesitantly, Bakura reached for Honda and smoothed his hands down his chest. Honda pressed into his hands, making a noise of encouragement, and for a moment Bakura was lost in the sight and the feel of Honda’s bare skin.

Honda laughed softly at his wondering expression and reached for Bakura, “Your turn.”

“But,” Bakura shrunk back, thinking only of what Honda would say when he saw his bare chest. Instinctively, he brought his arms up to fend off Honda’s hands.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” Honda reached for Bakura’s face instead and cupped it gently between his hands. “I won’t do anything to hurt you. You know I love you.”

“I know,” Bakura answered, “I want to try.”

Honda shook his head. “If you’re not ready I don’t want to force you.” He picked up his shirt and pulled it back on, much to Bakura’s disappointment. Honda stood up and Bakura followed him. He wanted to be touched more, and he was willing to bet Honda didn’t really want to stop.

“Honda,” Bakura wrapped his arms around Honda from behind, “you don’t have to. . .” but Honda was shaking his head, silencing him.

“Maybe I should just go home, let you rest.”

“It’s already dark outside.”

“I’ll be fine.” Honda paused to kiss the top of Bakura’s head.

“You’re disappointed in me,” Bakura whispered.

“I’m not.”

“You want to get away from me.”

“No,” Honda pulled Bakura into his arms at last. “Never.” Safe in the embrace he craved most, Bakura was quick to believe him. If Honda really wanted to leave he wouldn’t have his face buried in Bakura’s hair the way he did now. Honda shifted a little so he could murmur into Bakura’s ear, “Can I stay?”

“Always,” Bakura sighed, happy that he had diverted disaster on his own for once, and this time Honda didn’t even have to know about it.

* * *

“Come on. You know I’d do it if you asked.”

Honda sneaked a glance at his best friend. Jonouchi really did look serious about this, but Honda knew him well enough to be skeptical.

“You’re trying to set me up.”

Jonouchi snorted, “I would shoot you myself first.”

Honda knew he wasn’t bluffing. That blew that theory right out of the water.

“You’re always spending time with Bakura,” Jonouchi wheedled, “what’s one afternoon between friends?”

“Why did you have to get yourself stuck in detention today?”

“Not my fault, man. Ask Mr. Hardbutt.” Jonouchi was referring to their history teacher. The one who had not taken Jonouchi’s attempt to sleep hidden behind his textbook very well at all, especially once he had started snoring.

“Mr. Halibut,” Honda countered.

“Well he smells like one,” Jonouchi allowed. “So will you bail me out here or not?”

Honda gave in, mentally bidding a regretful farewell to his plans to spend the afternoon with Bakura. “You owe me for this.”

“Sure,” Jonouchi waved that aside, “just take her to a park or something and you’ll be fine.”

* * *

Bakura had to contain himself to keep from flinging his arms around Honda as soon as he was close enough. He didn’t think anything could spoil his good mood, at least until he realized that Honda’s expression meant bad news.

“I can’t make it this afternoon.” Bakura wanted to ask why, but Honda hurried on before he could even open his mouth. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise, but I have to go now.” Honda caught his hand and gave it a quick squeeze as he hurried off.

Feeling faintly puzzled, Bakura decided he could ask Honda about it tomorrow. It didn’t occur to him to be upset until he spotted Honda again a few minutes later.

He was standing beside the school gate, talking to a girl Bakura didn’t know. Bakura was too far away to hear what they were saying, but that didn’t make much difference because he suddenly couldn’t hear anything over the rushing in his ears. Honda was smiling at her, laughing at something and rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. She laughed as well, covering it cutely with her hand, and they left together.

Trying to tell himself that he hadn’t seen what he knew he had just seen, Bakura hurried home with what felt like crushed ice in the pit of his stomach. Even worse, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen that same girl somewhere before.

* * *

His host had been staring at his shoes for the past half hour. That was more than enough grieving. It was time to intervene.

“You-”

“It’s nothing.”

With a frown he considered. His moody and emotional other half would have to be dealt with carefully. When he was upset he tended to do annoying things like forgetting to eat. Quickly working a plan together, he set about fixing Bakura’s mood.

“You can’t lie to me. I could fish the problem right out of your head if I didn’t already know.”

Bakura sighed. There was no arguing with someone who lived in your head. “Do you think he’s mad at me?”

“No.”

“What if he’s tired of me?”

“I think it’s nothing,” he picked his words carefully. Like picking a lock, this required a precise hand. “That stupid boy belongs to you alone. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Bakura looked up from his shoes at last. “You think so?”

“If it wasn’t true I wouldn’t bother to say it.” Okay, technically he would. He enjoyed saying a great deal of things that weren’t true. He felt if you couldn’t lie on a regular basis there was no real point to having language at all. He just meant in this case his words were true.

Now that Bakura had relaxed he could act. Slowly he slipped into Bakura’s mind and nudged his consciousness into the backseat. Cheering Bakura up was the hard part. All he had to do now was actually make his statement true.

It was a task he intended to enjoy very throughly.

* * *

The last way Honda intended to end his day was by staring down his boyfriend’s evil side. This, he thought, definitely took the number one slot for the worst thing that had happened to him today.

“Isn’t it customary for you to at least challenge me to a game or something first?” Honda asked, holding up his hands to prompt a truce.

“The game is already over,” there was that maniac grin that Honda knew always meant trouble. “And when it comes to my host I tolerate no cheating.”

All went black for a few crucial seconds, and the next thing Honda knew he didn’t feel like himself at all. As he struggled to look around he realized that he was now small enough for Bakura’s evil side to carry comfortably under his arm. Which was exactly where he was dangling as his captor took him home, humming happily and looking infuriatingly pleased with himself. Whatever had happened to him, Honda was willing to bet he wouldn’t like it at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we see just what had happened to Honda. I don’t have much to say about this chapter, only I keep looking at it and thinking ‘how did you get so long?’ In my notebook it was only about four pages worth. I added a lot of stuff.

Honda didn’t have much time to form a plan of action after arriving at Bakura’s apartment, still dangling from his captor’s arm. His confusion was slowly being eaten up by anger. He had never exactly gotten along with the other Bakura, but he hadn’t done anything to warrant a flat-out attack like this.

Honda was dropped carelessly onto Bakura’s bed, by the time he righted himself he found himself staring up at two Bakuras. One was leaning heavily on a bedpost with his eyes closed. The other was standing a few steps away, watching him with a cold look as his reflection recovered. Honda didn’t have a hard time guessing which one was which.

“What did you do?” The Bakura closer to him, his Bakura, Honda thought possessively, was quickly recovering and turned to face his double. “What was it this time?”

“Nothing.”

“You’ve done something to Honda, haven’t you?” Bakura let go of the bed entirely and straightened up.

“No.”

“Then why did you take control?” Bakura demanded, while Honda was still caught up in his thoughts, furiously condemning the other Bakura as a liar.

“I brought you something.”

Bakura turned and spotted Honda on the bed. He snatched Honda into his arms and turned on his double.

“Why did you?” He hugged Honda even tighter, making a pained noise in his throat.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Bakura looked down at Honda, who found he couldn’t move with Bakura hugging him this hard. “It’s not him. It’s just. . . ?”

A nervous smile finally lighted on Bakura’s face. “Thank you.”

The other Bakura grunted at the thanks, and Honda received another squeeze. After having all the breath hugged out of him, Honda wasn’t able to correct Bakura. The other Bakura faded out of sight, bored now that there didn’t seem to be anyone for him to argue with.

At last Bakura stopped hugging the sense out of Honda and lay him gently on the bed. Honda intended to get his breath back, but Bakura ended up taking it away again.

Before Honda could say, or even think, a word, Bakura was stripping his shirt off over his head. Words died in Honda’s mouth as some basic instinct refused to allow anything that might disturb the view he was getting.

Bakura stretched happily. Only the cursed artifact hanging around his neck obscured Honda’s view. He was in danger of drooling when Bakura seemed to snap out of it. Honda tried to collect his wits as Bakura moved to his desk and started to look through one of the drawers.

Finding a pair of scissors, Bakura cut the tag out of the back of his shirt. Then he stood, holding it, apparently trying to decide if he felt like putting it back on or not.

Honda knew he was blessed when Bakura let the shirt fall from his hands and picked him up instead. He flopped backwards onto the bed, with Honda laying across his bare chest. Honda felt a little guilty. Bakura didn’t know he was being watched.

After a few minutes Bakura set him down on the bedside table. Now Honda had to turn his head at an odd angle to make out what Bakura was doing.

The cursed pendent he always wore had slid to one side, and he had one hand in the center of his chest, right were the artifact normally rested. His fingers were slowly caressing a small scar.

Now that Honda got to see Bakura’s bare chest, he realized there was a semicircle of five small scars in the middle of it. With Bakura focusing on them like that they were hard to miss.

Honda suddenly understood why Bakura wouldn’t let him take off his shirt. Now, he realized, he couldn’t let Bakura know it was really him, because he had seen Bakura’s secret. It wasn’t hard to guess what those scars were from.

Of course now that he had looked Honda couldn’t tear his gaze away. He stared as Bakura caressed each scar in turn. Then, slowly his hand slipped downwards. Honda felt himself blush as he heard Bakura unzipping his pants.

Without getting out of bed, Bakura wriggled his way out of his pants and kicked them off. Honda couldn’t keep himself from wanting to run his hands over the newly bared skin. He had to remind himself that he was no longer in his own body in order to keep still.

Bakura curled up on his side, now dressed only in his underwear and socks. He reached up and lifted Honda down into his arms. Honda froze as Bakura nuzzled him happily.

Honda couldn’t breathe, but this time it had nothing to do with being squeezed. Normally he would have given anything to be in this situation, except he wanted to be in his own body. He wanted to be curled around Bakura’s body, not lying limply under his arm.

After a few minutes, Honda realized that Bakura had dozed off. At least now it was safe for him to settle down.

Without warning, Bakura shifted in his sleep, squeezing Honda tightly and whispering his name. The sound sent a shiver right down Honda’s spine, but when he looked back, Bakura had a deceptively innocent look on his face. Just wondering what he was thinking made a trickle of blood run out of Honda’s nose.

In another moment Bakura’s eyes opened. Honda recognized his other side. He was getting used to it after seeing so much of him. He was also beginning to recognize that self-satisfied smirk.

“Pervert,” he commented, letting go of Honda, and leaving him to try and stop his nosebleed. After a moment of silently watching he gave Honda a push, toppling him right over.

“You lied to him.”

“I did not!” Honda protested.

“Now he thinks you’re just a toy.” Honda struggled to ignore Bakura’s baiting. There was nothing he could do about his evil smugness just now.

Bakura contemplated him for another stretch before adding, “I think you just wanted to see him undress.”

Honda’s face went hot. “I did not!” He took a swing at Bakura, knowing his fists were now too small to do any damage. Bakura retaliated by picking him up so that he dangled helplessly in front of his face.

Honda growled.

“I think I like you better this way,” Bakura taunted, “you’re so tiny and cute.”

Bakura giggled, and the sound made Honda shudder. He had never thought a laugh could sound so evil. Still laughing, Bakura dropped him, and lay back down for sleep.

* * *

Honda wasn’t at school the next day. Bakura had no room to feel upset at whatever had happened the day before. He was too busy worrying that Honda was sick or hurt. After school he had to go along with Jonouchi and Yugi to check on Honda. He had a bad feeling about it.

He just didn’t have any idea just how bad things were.

Bakura could only stand in shock. Listening as the others offered their apologies. Honda was in the hospital. He was in some sort of coma. They couldn’t wake him up.

Hands were tugging on him, and Bakura followed numbly. Something about going to see Honda at the hospital. There was no point. Bakura knew his other self had to be behind this. There was no way it could be a coincidence. Honda wasn’t in his body anymore. He was. . .

“Wait,” the other two stopped and looked at him. Bakura felt sure they knew too. They were accusing him. They knew who had caused this. Bakura forced himself to stay calm. It didn’t matter what they thought. Honda was all that mattered right now.

“He’s not in the hospital.”

Jonouchi ran one hand through his hair irritably, “Bakura, you’re not making this better.”

What? Bakura took a moment to realize Jonouchi thought he was just in denial. Somehow that made him feel a little stronger.

“He’s in my room.”

Yugi nodded. He believed, but he didn’t look like he was accusing Bakura at all. Bakura felt sick with relief. Jonouchi was still looking at him strangely.

“You kidnaped him out of the hospital?”

Bakura flushed. No. Idiot. He didn’t think he could explain this without having Jonouchi blow up at him. Then Yugi simply lay on hand on Jonouchi’s arm and he shrugged and nodded. Bakura didn’t have time to wonder just how Yugi could make Jonouchi behave with such a simple gesture. It was Honda he was worried about now.

* * *

Honda had taken care to note the spot Bakura had left him in before he left for school. When he heard voices in the next room he simply flopped down in the same spot and went still. He would have to stop playing dead at some point, but it was probably better to wait until Bakura had a chance to forget about stripping in front of him last night.

Almost as soon as he had gone still Bakura snatched him up and carried him out into the next room. Bakura was cradling him with shaking hands, and even from his odd angle Honda could see that Bakura was upset.

“He. . . brought this home last night.”

No one had to ask who Bakura was talking about. It could only be the other Bakura. Who else did they know who liked to seal people into toys? Honda suddenly wished he had just talked to Bakura last night. He hadn’t realized that everyone would figure it out when he couldn’t go to school the next day.

“Why did it take you so long to figure out, then?”

“Jonouchi. . .” Yugi murmured, trying to tell his friend to calm down. Honda couldn’t see his friends, but he knew them well enough to know what would happen. Jonouchi’s nerves were already stretched thin, and he was about to snap and take it out on Bakura.

“At first I thought it was. . .” Bakura’s hold tightened, “but he didn’t speak or move or anything.”

“It’s still obvious! It’s not like this doesn’t happen all the time!”

“I thought they were getting along,” Bakura protested weakly.

“That other Bakura can’t get along with anyone. It’s because you have to hang around Honda that this happened! It’s your fault!”

Bakura didn’t even try to fight back. He just buried his face in Honda and let out a small sob. Honda could see out of the corner of his eye, Jonouchi tense with rage while Yugi clung to his arm and tried to calm him down.

“Jonouchi, that’s enough,” Yugi pleaded, obviously upset by the fight.

“It’s your fault!”

Honda couldn’t stand by anymore. He reached up to wipe the tears off of Bakura’s face, turning to look Jonouchi in the eye “That’s enough!”

Suddenly everyone was staring at him. Yugi was still clutching Jonouchi’s sleeve so hard his knuckles had gone white. Bakura swallowed a sob. Jonouchi leaned almost close enough to touch noses and stared, cross-eyed, at Honda.

“You okay, man?”

“Of course I’m not okay! I’m tiny!” Honda flailed his arms, not managing to do any damage. Jonouchi reached over and poked him, apparently enthralled by his predicament.

“Cut that out.”

Jonouchi transferred his attention to Bakura. “Why just him?”

Honda was ready to defend Bakura, but Bakura interrupted to blame himself.

“Because I got jealous,” Bakura faltered, but looked away and forced himself to continue, speaking to Honda, “I got upset when I saw you with her yesterday.”

Honda’s brain ground to a halt. “Her?” The only girl he had hung around with yesterday was Anzu, when they were all together, and he guessed his mom counted, and. . . oh. Her.

Jonouchi looked from Honda to Bakura and back again, and Honda could almost feel him jumping to conclusions.

“After school?” Jonouchi asked. Bakura nodded miserably. “Right after school?” Bakura nodded again. Jonouchi turned to Honda. “What were you doing with my sister!?”

Funny. Once Jonouchi went into protective brother mode he completely forgot about Honda’s problem.

“You set him up with your sister?”

“He made a move on my sister!”

“I didn’t do anything to her!”

“Stop it!”

Honda was ready to keep arguing, but Jonouchi making a visible effort to control himself calmed him down somewhat. They glared at one another for a moment before Jonouchi spoke again.

“Prove you didn’t do anything.”

Honda pointed to Bakura. “Boyfriend.”

Jonouchi had apparently forgotten about that, because he glanced at Bakura as if sizing him up. Yugi chose that moment to intervene.

“You know nothing happened,” it looked like he was trying to persuade Bakura, but the hand still restraining Jonouchi told Honda otherwise. “They love each other,” he told Jonouchi.

Wait. Jonouchi looked a little flustered now. Maybe he still wasn’t used to their relationship.

“Yeah, whatever,” Jonouchi tried to brush off the love comment. Yugi finally removed his hand, trusting Jonouchi to behave himself. “The point is we have to get Honda back to normal.”

Pretty smooth, Honda thought, considering a few seconds ago the point was ‘you touched my sister, you die.’

“I can’t do that.”

“We’ll figure out a way,” Yugi assured Bakura.

“We just have to challenge him or something.”

“I can’t.” Bakura lifted Honda out of his lap and onto the couch next to Jonouchi. “I just can’t.”

No matter how they tried to persuade him, Bakura would only repeat himself. After about an hour of this, it was left up to Honda to convince Bakura to help him. Though, even more than the help itself, he wanted to know why Bakura kept trying to refuse.

* * *

Once the others left, Bakura simply left Honda on the couch and tried to go to bed. He couldn’t remember ever being so tired. His head was swimming with strange thoughts, ones he’d never considered before. He was drowning in guilt.

Honda had a long walk ahead of him if he was going to follow. Bakura threw himself on his bed and closed his eyes, hoping he would be asleep before Honda got to him.

The familiar sensation of his other self separating from his body interrupted his attempts to sleep. The bed bent under the weight of a second person, and Bakura felt his other half leaning over him. He didn’t care what happened to him right now.

The bed shifted as his other half got up. He left the room for a moment, and came back with Honda dangling from his hand.

“Look. I thought you liked this. Don’t you think it’s cute?”

Bakura wouldn’t look.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset.” He dropped Honda onto the bed. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“That’s why I’m upset!” Bakura burst out. “If I really just want him no matter what. . .” He didn’t care if Honda heard. He didn’t care what happened. “Why am I so selfish?”

His other half made a scoffing noise, telling Bakura that he didn’t care if it was selfish or not.

Tiny hands were tugging at his shirt, Honda trying to get his attention. “You didn’t cause this.”

Bakura wanted to cry, because Honda kept insisting on being so gentle. He put his hands over his ears and shook his head. He wanted so badly not to be alone, to have the people he loved around him always, that he just let it happen. He stood by and let this happen to Honda because of his selfishness, and now. . .

A small tug on his hair forced him back to reality. His other side was still watching him. Honda was still hanging on him. No matter what they could do to hurt him, he didn’t want them to leave him.

Another tug. “Say something.”

“Ouch.”

“Quit that!” As always, Honda rose to defend him. Right now he didn’t deserve it, though.

“Honda,” Bakura drew Honda’s attention back onto him, “aren’t you mad that I was jealous?” He should be mad. That was the reason he was stuck this way, after all.

Honda stalled. “I’d rather you trusted me.”

“But didn’t you get jealous before, with Kaiba?” Though I didn’t get stuck as a doll for that, Bakura reminded himself.

“That was different. I saw you.”

“My sight is just as good as yours.”

His other half was still there, watching them. Bakura wished he would fade away. Not that this conversation would ever be private, with that other self living in his head, but he could at least pretend to leave them alone.

Honda sighed. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course.” He would forgive Honda in a heartbeat. . . except. . . “But I can’t get you back into your body.” Though he could probably convince his other side if he tried. “I don’t want that. I want to keep you just like this.” Bakura’s hands were trembling. He clenched them in the sheets to keep them still. “This way you’ll always be with me, and no one else.”

Honda was apparently too stunned to resist when Bakura took him into his arms. Bakura held him tight, pressing his face into the soft body. His other self reached over and stroked his hair. It felt strange. Usually that was a place he attacked when he was annoyed, tugging Bakura’s hair painfully to make a point.

“Good boy.”

Honda roused himself back up to fighting form. “You’ve brainwashed him! Bakura, snap out of it!”

Bakura didn’t answer. He knew he wasn’t brainwashed. His heart hurt a little, but his mind was perfectly clear.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long for me to finish. There are two more parts, which are almost done as I post this *crosses fingers for luck* Maybe Honda’ won’t be a plushie forever! As much fun as I’m having with him

Honda couldn’t be sure how much time had passed while Bakura simply held him tight, presumably soaking up comfort from his tiny body. The spirit of the ring had disappeared a long time ago, but Bakura obviously didn’t feel like talking.

That was fine with Honda. He didn’t feel like talking to Bakura right now either. If that was his honest feeling, that he would leave Honda in this form as long as he could keep him to himself, Honda didn’t know what to think. It was almost flattering in a way, but not nearly enough to resign Honda to that fate.

On the other hand, he was worried that Bakura felt that way at all. What was he doing wrong that Bakura thought he had to force him into this just to hang onto him? He thought he had made it clear that he loved Bakura. He gave Bakura plenty of attention, and all of his affection, so why didn’t Bakura trust him?

“Honda?” Bakura shifted his grip slightly, though he didn’t let go of Honda. “Last night, you were watching me.”

It wasn’t even a question. Honda nodded reluctantly. “I saw.”

“I thought you’d get upset if you saw that.”

Honda didn’t have to ask what Bakura was talking about. He knew Bakura meant the scars on his chest, and they did upset him a little, but he couldn’t do anything about them from here.

“It’s because of the ring, isn’t it?”

“He doesn’t do that anymore,” Bakura tried to assure him, “it was only when I tried to take the ring off.”

Honda wriggled in Bakura’s grip until he could turn over and look him in the face. “I know you didn’t want me to see that, but it’s not a big deal.”

“Honda . . . ”

Honda pinched Bakura’s cheek. It was true he would have been furious if he had found out a few days ago, but he couldn’t let this turn into a crisis now. “What’s wrong? You still look great.” Honda tried not to blush, thinking about just how Bakura had looked last night. “I won’t let him do something like that to you again.”

Bakura didn’t look as if he believed that Honda could do that, but he still gave Honda a grateful squeeze. “Thank you.”

Honda could only let out an ‘oof’ in reply as Bakura hugged all the breath out of him once again. Much as he enjoyed receiving Bakura’s affection, he was beginning to feel lucky that he didn’t have ribs to bruise in this form.

Bakura cuddled Honda thoughtfully for a moment, then climbed off of the bed, taking Honda with him. He padded silently into the bathroom, closing the door behind them and placing Honda carefully on the sink.

“Wait, wait, what,” Honda stumbled over his words when Bakura started to pull his shirt off over his head, “what are you doing!?”

“I need a shower.” Bakura told him. He was hugging his shirt to his chest, and he sounded much too nervous for just a shower. “I don’t want you to be bored. Besides, I should do something to make up for you being stuck like this.”

“And ‘something’ is a peep show?” Honda couldn’t help being surprised at Bakura’s sudden change in attitude.

“I just thought you would enjoy it.”

“To distract me? Bakura, let it go. I don’t need it.”

Bakura gave him a look and tossed his shirt down stubbornly. “You weren’t exactly shielding your eyes last night.”

“I’m sorry about that!” Honda hoped Bakura couldn’t see the blush he felt burning his face. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do this.”

“I don’t feel like I have to,” Bakura argued. “I want to.”

“You never wanted to before.”

“Well I don’t have anything to hide now, do I?” Bakura asked, crossing his arms.

Bakura waited, watching Honda, for a minute, then sighed and leaned forward, propping his arms on either side of the sink beside Honda. “I just want to be able to give you something. If I can’t get you back into your own body soon, I want-”

“Wait.” Honda put one hand over Bakura’s mouth to stop him. “I thought you weren’t going to help me.”

“No.” Bakura whispered against his hand. He was smiling, but his expression was still so sad, which confused Honda a little.

“Then why did you say you were going to keep me this way?”

Bakura kissed Honda’s hand, distracting him. He shifted to kiss the top of Honda’s head next, then nuzzled lightly at Honda before pulling away.

Honda’s eyes widened as Bakura’s hands went to his belt. He almost asked if Bakura really wanted to do this, but he had already told Honda he was taking a shower. He could always kick Honda out of the bathroom if he changed his mind and wanted a little privacy.

Honda watched as Bakura opened his pants and tugged them down to his knees before sneaking a glance up at Honda. He was blushing.

Honda found himself trying to reassure Bakura again. “You know, you don’t have to do anything.”

“I know.” Bakura gave careful consideration to taking off his pants so that he didn’t have to look at Honda as he spoke, “I just sort of expected you to be the one . . . ”

The one . . . what? He was already the only one here. Honda wasn’t sure if he should ask. Bakura was absorbed in pulling off his socks, giving them a look of concentration that discouraged embarrassing questions.

Bakura couldn’t mean he wanted to watch Honda strip instead, could he? Honda knew that was physically impossible at the moment. His clothes were sewn on.

Bakura jerked his underwear off quickly, unlike the rest of his clothes. Honda only saw what was underneath for a second before Bakura turned to drop his clothes in the hamper. He kept his back turned to Honda for another minute to turn on the water and adjust it to a comfortable temperature.

“I guess you don’t need a bath when you’re like that,” Bakura commented.

“I don’t think so.” The question surprised Honda. Was Bakura actually suggesting taking him into the shower? He would have liked to join Bakura under normal circumstances, but he couldn’t exactly do anything useful when he was like this. Not only that, but he wasn’t even sure he would dry out properly afterward.

Bakura shot a glance back at him. There was a faint blush staining his cheeks, but he didn’t tell Honda to leave. He just stepped into the shower and slid the stall door into place behind him.

Honda could still see him through the glass. Bakura had to be aware of being watched. His movements were uneasy, and Honda could tell he was forcing himself to go slowly. It took several minutes of this for Honda to realize just how nervous Bakura must feel being watched.

After the second time Bakura dropped the soap in his nervousness, Honda turned his head towards the towel rack so that he was only watching Bakura out of the corner of his eye. Bakura seemed to be a little less tense after that. He still took extra care in scrubbing himself, but he didn’t drop anything else. Honda tried not to be disappointed, since each time Bakura had bent over he got a good look at his backside.

He looked awkward washing his back, Honda realized. He couldn’t quite stretch his arms to reach every place. Honda had to fight down the urge to go give him a hand, reminding himself that washing Bakura’s back for him was yet another thing he couldn’t do in this body. Hell, washing any part of Bakura was something he couldn’t do in this body.

. . . Maybe his feet. Honda could reach his feet.

While he was lamenting his newly shortened reach, Bakura got out of the shower. He was breathing hard as he fluffed up his wet hair with a towel. Then he glanced at Honda and his cheeks reddened. He wrapped the other towel around his waist and stepped quickly out of the room.

Honda wondered if he was in trouble. Maybe he should have insisted on giving Bakura privacy after all.

A minute later Bakura hurried back in, wearing his pajamas, to gather Honda up and take him to bed. Honda peeked up at Bakura’s face as he was settled under the covers, trying to see if he was angry.

“Was that stupid of me?” Bakura asked after a tense minute.

“No. You’re beautiful,” Honda burst out before he could think.

Bakura blushed and quickly changed the topic. “Are you hungry or anything? I don’t think you’ve had anything to eat all day! You must be starving,” He said all in a rush, sitting up.

“I’m fine,” Honda insisted. He hadn’t even realized until just that moment that he wasn’t hungry at all. “I don’t think I could eat if I wanted to.”

“You’re sure?” Bakura slowly lay back down beside him. “I would get you something.”

“Sure.” Honda hesitated and watch Bakura suspiciously. Now that he thought about it, Bakura hadn’t had any dinner either. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Bakura, when did you last eat?”

“After school. I’m just not hungry,” Bakura insisted.

Honda doubted that, but he couldn’t exactly force Bakura. It probably would have been easier to talk him into eating something if he had claimed to be hungry. That would have at least gotten Bakura into the kitchen. On the other hand, Honda didn’t think Bakura would purposefully starve himself. If he claimed he wasn’t hungry, he probably just wasn’t.

Making a mental note to be sure Bakura got a good breakfast, Honda let the subject drop. There were other things he wanted to talk about. Bakura’s exhibitionism in the bathroom for one. He had been embarrassed, but it seemed even more to Honda like he had been waiting for something. He had kept glancing at Honda, almost as if he had expected something from him. Honda realized that there must have been something he wanted to hear or to say, but it was too late for that now.

“Bakura,” Honda started, then realized he had no idea what he should say. All he’d really been thinking of while watching Bakura were things he wanted to do to him. He didn’t know what Bakura wanted. “If, I mean when, I get my body back,” Honda hesitated before finishing with, “I’ll do whatever you want me to. I mean, whatever you want to do together.”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“I want to.” Especially if it gave Bakura extra incentive to get him back where he belonged. “And if you don’t trust me, then I’ll find a way to earn your trust. I’ll make everything right.” Honda honestly had no idea how he was going to go about doing that, but it felt like the right thing to say.

Bakura buried his face in the pillow and shook his head. Honda caught himself feeling put out that Bakura wasn’t burying his face in him for once. “You don’t have to do anything. I just want to enjoy this while it lasts.”

Honda grumbled and Bakura hugged him tight, consoling him. “Once you get your body back, I’m sure you won’t want anything to do with me.”

“What are you talking about?” Honda demanded, “I just said I did.”

“You didn’t say you wanted to. You said you would.” Bakura squeezed Honda hard, squashing the argument out of him before he could even start. “And I’m sorry.”

Honda didn’t have the breath to argue, so he settled for as angry of a look as his plush face could manage. Bakura had better mean he was sorry for suggesting he would abandon him.

“Because I love you,” Bakura whispered.

By the time Bakura finally loosened his grip enough for Honda to speak again, it was because he had drifted off to sleep. Honda had plenty to think about during that time. Did Bakura mean that because he loved Honda, he was sorry for what had happened? Or did he literally mean that he was sorry because he loved Honda, that he was sorry for loving Honda.

He kept watching Bakura’s sleeping face. He would have liked to brush the few stray hairs away from his eyes. Maybe even kiss him, if he thought he could get away with it. He just couldn’t get around the fact that it didn’t quite feel right to do anything to Bakura while in the wrong body.

Honda tried his best to doze off, but he wasn’t even close to sleepy when Bakura’s eyes snapped open again. He froze as Bakura poked him and smirked. He knew instantly that it was the other Bakura this time.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Not really.” Honda tried to squirm out of Bakura’s arms.

Bakura captured him easily and trapped him under one arm. “I like you better this way. More convenient.”

Honda grumbled under his breath, but since Bakura only poked him a few times and prepared to go back to sleep, he didn’t protest further. For the spirit, this was a mild mood. Actually, for him, this was practically a cuddly mood. He must really be tired.

* * *

Honda wasn’t aware of finally drifting off to sleep, but when he woke Bakura was peaceful again. A patch of sunlight was creeping up his shoulder, preparing to shine directly in his face and wake him. He was smiling in his sleep, and for a few seconds Honda completely forgot his predicament in favor of watching Bakura.

It only lasted for a moment. Honda soon realized that Bakura’s arm was pinning his whole tiny body at once. He dragged himself out from under it and, grunting in frustration at his plush body, tried to push his stuffing back into place.

Bakura stirred as Honda moved, and blinked at him sleepily. Honda would have liked to smile at him, but he turned away at the last moment.

“Honda?” Bakura smiled for him, pushing his mussed hair out of his eyes. “You’re already awake.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Honda didn’t want to be mad at Bakura. He really didn’t. He just didn’t know what to do.

Bakura poked Honda lightly, his smile faltering. “Honda, give me a chance.”

Honda leaned into Bakura’s hand. It was just too strange. He had carried Bakura before, and had thought he was relatively light. Now he could practically fit into Bakura’s hand.

“What do you want a chance to do?” Honda shook his head. Bakura tugged him slowly closer. “You should know I love you. I’ll keep loving you. Even like this.”

“Even like this,” Bakura repeated. He tugged Honda closer until he could nuzzle against him. “Or only like this?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I mean it,” Bakura whispered, his voice muffled by Honda’s soft body. “I can’t be enough for you. I know that.”

Honda sighed. How was he supposed to get Bakura to trust him again? He hugged Bakura’s head and grumbled to himself, feeling helpless.

“Don’t,” Bakura pleaded. “I’ll get you back in your body somehow. Just let me enjoy a little time with you now.”

“You don’t want to put me back, do you? Why do you keep insisting that you will?”

“Well, you want to go back.” Bakura rubbed Honda’s back lightly. “And this isn’t right. It just doesn’t feel right.”

“Then why are you so reluctant to let me back!?”

Bakura hugged him close again. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Would you quit with the jealousy for a minute and trust me? I’m not going to run off with anyone. I’m not going to cheat on you. I’m not going to leave you!”

Bakura ignored his outburst. “I wanted to go out somewhere with you today, but maybe we should just stay here.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Is there a movie you wanted to see? We never go out anywhere together.”

“Bakura, listen to me!” Honda paused as what he had just said sunk in. “What do you mean we never go out?”

“We don’t. You never want to go anywhere with me, right? You’ve never even suggested it.”

“I’m not embarrassed of going out with you or anything, I just,” Honda hesitated and mumbled the last few words into Bakura’s arm, “wanted to get you alone more.”

Bakura smiled, looking a little embarrassed at what Honda had just told him. “Thank you.”

Honda smiled back instinctively. If Bakura just wanted to go on a normal date with him, that was a problem he could solve easily. If Bakura was jealous because he thought Honda didn’t want to be seen with him, well Honda would have that fixed in no time. He liked spending time with Bakura, wherever they were.

Bakura nuzzled his chest, apparently happy that he had side-tracked Honda from their argument. “Then should we stay here for a little longer?”

Here? In bed? Honda glanced over at Bakura’s bedside clock. It was already past ten. Good thing for Bakura it wasn’t a school day.

Honda studied the clock for another minute. Something was bothering him. Was there something he had forgotten to do?

“Don’t you want breakfast?”

Bakura considered it for a minute. “Do you?”

“No, but you must be starving.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re lying.” Honda insisted. It was at least over twelve hours since Bakura had last eaten, as far as he knew. There was no way he wouldn’t be hungry by now.

“No. I feel kind of sick.” Bakura hugged Honda to his stomach. The look on his face made it hard for Honda to doubt him, but. . .

“You probably feel sick because you haven’t eaten anything.” Honda insisted.

“I don’t want anything.”

Honda wished he could just pick Bakura up, carry him to the kitchen, and find him something that he would consent to eat. Instead he had to settle for coaxing him with, “I’m sure you’ll feel better. And after breakfast we can go out wherever you want.”

Bakura looked like he was considering it, but then he shook his head and settled back to cuddling Honda.

Honda was just starting to get annoyed when Bakura changed. He could practically sense the shift from his sweet, though sometimes annoyingly stubborn, Bakura, to someone else. Of course, he wasn’t exactly making a secret of his appearance.

“That brat,” he grumbled, “can sulk all he wants, but I’m hungry.”

Honda pushed himself into a sitting position and the spirit gave him a look. “What are you going to do?” He poked at Honda playfully.

“Nothing much,” Honda sighed. He was actually glad to see the spirit for once, not that he would ever admit it. At least now he wouldn’t have to worry about Bakura not eating.

Bakura gave him a look that made Honda wonder if he was disappointed to see him give in so easily.

“Fine.” Bakura picked Honda up so that he dangled in front of his face. “You can cook something for me, then.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, ignoring the way Honda flailed in his grip.

“What do you mean, cook something for you?”

“I don’t cook.”

“I’d probably just set myself on fire,” Honda told him. He suspected he was much more flammable than he had originally been, and didn’t really want to test this theory.

Bakura paused, studying Honda as if seriously considering the possibility before he said, “As much as I’d like to see that, you’re not edible.” He swung Honda in his hand, staring into the distance as if thinking.

“Just have some cereal or something.”

“Yech. Warm food.”

“Can’t you even work the microwave?”

Bakura growled.

Honda didn’t know if this was aimed at the microwave itself or at his insinuation that a mere appliance might get the better of him, but he had to suppress the urge to laugh at this reaction. “You could go out to eat.”

“Out?” Bakura shook him again, though it was more of a thinking gesture than actual malice. “Yes. . .” He turned towards the door.

“You have to put clothes on first!” Honda hollered up at him. “Pajamas don’t count!”

“I know that,” the spirit grumbled. He dropped Honda and started dragging clothes out of Bakura’s wardrobe and pulling them on. He didn’t seem to care one way or another if Honda watched.

In five minutes he was out of the house with Honda shoved in one of the pockets of his jacket. He didn’t take time to consult Honda on where he should be going, but ducked into the first open place that he recognized as a restaurant.

Bakura grumbled over the menu while Honda crawled out of his pocket and into his lap so that he could see. Bakura had picked a secluded booth, and he figured he was more or less hidden by the table, so long as he didn’t move around too much.

He finally decided on a ‘western’ breakfast, though Honda couldn’t really be sure if he had any idea what that was, or if he had picked it because it was first on the menu.

While he was waiting for his food, Bakura reached down to pet Honda. Under other circumstances, such as having his normal Bakura instead of a possessed one, Honda would have enjoyed it. As it was, Bakura kept poking him, pulling his ears and hair, and accidentally-on-purpose tipping him over.

“If they don’t bring something soon, I might just have to eat you.”

“Great.” Honda didn’t believe him. Besides, he knew he wouldn’t taste good. At least he didn’t have to find out. Bakura got food before he could follow through on his threat. He didn’t realize that he never had seen this Bakura eat until he watched him inspecting his food.

Bakura prodded his waffles with one finger. “It’s flat. What are these things?”

“Just eat it. You can use the fork,” Honda pointed out from his spot on Bakura’s lap.

“Hm.” Bakura ignored him and started using his spoon to wolf down his eggs. He must be really hungry. Honda settled back in his lap, thinking. Bakura forgetting to eat. Did he really just forget? He had said he felt sick, but his other self didn’t seem to have any problem with that.

“You feeling okay?” Honda caught the look of surprise and amended, “is he okay? He said his stomach hurt, or something like that.”

“I’m fine. He just worries himself sick.” Bakura didn’t seem to realize he’d given Honda valuable information as he went on to complain, “stupid to refuse a meal when he should know that’s all it is.”

Honda didn’t like hearing his Bakura called stupid, even if he had to agree that he should have eaten something himself. He changed the subject quickly. “What’s wrong with Bakura’s microwave?”

“It’s broken,” Bakura muttered, rather defensively, “or possessed.”

“What did it do?”

Bakura indicated the last of his egg. “One of these.” He quickly turned to his bacon and sausage before Honda could laugh at him. Honda strongly suspected that he had tried to put the egg in whole. He wished he could have been there to see the spirit’s reaction.

“The hell? This is raw,” Bakura announced, half of his strip of bacon dangling out of his mouth.

Their waitress appeared behind Bakura a minute later and offered to heat up his bacon for him, glancing dubiously from his face to where Honda was playing dead in his lap. He grumbled something rude under his breath and tried to move his plate out of her reach.

“What’s that?” she asked, trying to sound helpful.

“Go away.” Bakura went back to his food, pointedly ignoring her and Honda both. Honda could practically feel the malice dripping from Bakura’s words. He quickly decided that this was one person who he did not want to interrupt in the middle of the meal.

The waitress hurried off, exchanging a few choice words with one of her coworkers on the way. To Honda’s surprise she seemed more irritated than scared by Bakura’s behavior. He would have expected people to take Bakura for a psychotic, possibly homicidal, ventriloquist.

“What is this?” Bakura wanted to know.

Honda watched him chewing thoughtfully for a moment before he answered, “sausage.”

“I know what it’s called. What is it?”

“Um. . .” Honda realized he had no idea what exactly was in sausage. “Ground up cow. Or pig.” Or lost pets? Honda was pretty sure that one was an urban legend. “Something like that.”

Bakura gave him a disgusted look.

“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it.”

Bakura glared daggers at Honda for a minute at the mere suggestion of giving up his hard-won food. Then he stuffed the rest of the sausage in his mouth before Honda could offer any more insane suggestions.

Honda felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He should have guessed Bakura wasn’t raised to waste food. “I think you’re supposed to eat those with the fork,” he said, to keep himself from smiling. With Bakura, everything was suddenly a finger food.

Bakura ignored him. He was busy trying to finish his meat before anyone else tried to take it from him.

“This.” Bakura poked the waffle and gave Honda a look, as if he was trying to decide if Honda would be useful after his last non-answer. He tore off a few squares and popped them in his mouth. “What is this shape for?”

“I think so you can put more syrup in it.” Honda had never really thought about it. At least that answer made sense. The spirit gave him a confused look, and Honda pointed to the little pitcher of maple syrup which he had been ignoring.

Bakura picked up the pitcher, sniffed it, then dipped one finger in the syrup to taste it. Honda watched his eyes widen as he sucked the syrup off of his finger. He immediately poured half of the pitcher of syrup over his first waffle. He followed that with about half of his fruit salad, which made an odd, sticky pile.

Honda had to fight down another smile as the spirit started to go through the extra packets on the table, apparently looking for something he liked as much as the syrup. He made faces at the ketchup, the mustard and the soy sauce, but squeezed a generous amounts of strawberry jam into the mess piling up on his waffle.

When he found the honey, Bakura’s eyes lit up again. He seemed to think he had discovered treasure, and muttered something under his breath about not believing that they would just leave the honey out like that. Did the spirit have a sweet tooth, Honda wondered, as he watched Bakura spread honey on his pile and slip three more of the honey packets into his pocket.

“What is that?” Honda couldn’t decide if the spirit’s concoction looked tasty or terrifying.

“Breakfast,” the spirit insisted before folding his waffle in half to keep the sweets from escaping and starting to eat it with his hands.

Bakura was obviously enjoying himself, licking syrup off of his lips and fingers in between bites. He had to switch hands several times to lap at the overflow of honey and jam on his hands.

Honda couldn’t tell if the spirit was doing it on purpose, but once he slowed down his occupation with his breakfast was almost sensual. It was his tongue, Honda decided. Watching that tongue flicking over knuckles and between fingers was fascinating. Watching it paint slow, deliberate strokes across his palms and up and down his fingers was almost unbearable.

Bakura popped the last bit of his waffle into his mouth. Then, eyes fluttering closed in pleasure, Bakura sucked each of his fingertips in turn. Honda couldn’t tear his eyes away.

At least, until Bakura peeked down at him and grinned wickedly. “Pervert,” he teased.

Honda grumbled and shuffled. Bakura had been showing off on purpose after all, and he had gotten himself caught watching.

Bakura fixed up his second waffle the same way, piling fruit, syrup, honey and jam onto it before eating it with far less production. Honda noted that he still made a point of catching all the bits that dripped onto his hands, but he wasn’t deliberately making a sensual show out of it. Honda wasn’t sure if he was glad or not.

The waitress noticed rather quickly that Bakura was done, and brought him his bill, probably hoping to get him to leave before he could cause more of a scene. She didn’t say anything about it, but gave him a look that made Honda want to squirm in shame at Bakura’s behavior. Bakura ignored the disapproval completely.

Honda thought for a minute that Bakura might have forgotten to bring any money. He breathed a sigh of relief as Bakura pulled a wallet out of an inside pocket and stared at the paper bills incredulously.

“This is money, isn’t it?” Bakura pulled out one ten-thousand yen note. “It’s flimsy.” He seemed to be more irritated than confused by the impracticality of paper money.

Honda pulled himself up on the table to help Bakura with the notes, but Bakura gave him a poke, trying to fend him off. “Shoo.” His face lit up as he discovered the coins.

Honda shook his head angrily. “You’re not paying with those. Take that,” he pointed to the note already on the table, “and two of those. The green ones.”

Bakura checked the bill. He grumbled under his breath and Honda suspected that he was contemplating just not paying for the food. “What the hell is this? 1,200?” Bakura looked mortally offended. It took Honda a minute to realize that whatever currency Bakura was used to, they probably didn’t use a few hundred of it just to pay for a meal.

Bakura pocketed a second handful of honey packets, and some of the jam.

“It’s not that much,” Honda tried to explain, but Bakura just gave him a look as if he was insane before glaring at the bill again. On the other hand, there was at least enough money in the wallet for Bakura to decide that the madness was universal and stop complaining about it.

Bakura grumbled, but he left the notes Honda had pointed out to him on the table and left in a huff, barely remembering to take Honda with him. Honda knew they were supposed to take the money and the bill with him to pay, but he had to content himself with being glad that the spirit had actually paid for the food. It did occur to him to hope that the wallet had been Bakura’s in the first place, and that he hadn’t lifted it from someone in the way there. Honda had been stuffed too deep in the pocket to see.

It wasn’t until he had cleaned the last of his breakfast off of his hands that Bakura spoke again.

“I guess you want your boy back now.”

“Yeah,” Honda grumbled to himself, sure that the spirit was only asking so that he could deny him that. It was the kind of thing he had done before.

Instead Bakura stopped short, staring straight ahead for a second in shock before peeking down at Honda. Honda recognized the nervous expression at once. He had his own Bakura back. He hadn’t expected the spirit to let him out so easily.

“Honda,” Bakura’s eyes were wide in fear as he spoke, “how did I get here?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Bakura,” Honda spoke carefully around the pressure Bakura’s hug was putting on his chest, “how do you feel?”

Bakura looked down at himself, probably checking for possible damage after the spirit had been in his body. “Okay, I guess. Why?”

“Just wanted to be sure you don’t still feel sick,” Honda explained. He had suspected that Bakura’s nausea before was due to not eating more than anything else. “We just ate.” He wasn’t at all sure how to phrase what had happened. “He, the other you, sort of took you out to breakfast.”

Bakura gave him a look of utter disbelief, but his grip loosened a little, and Honda welcomed this as a sign that he was calming down.

“Did we do anything bad?” Bakura asked cautiously.

“Not really. He pissed of the waitress, and I’m sure she thought you were insane,” as he said this Honda looked around them, thinking someone else would probably be sharing this opinion about Bakura in a minute. The street they were on was more or less empty. Honda wasn’t sure were they were because Bakura had spent a few minutes walking rather aimlessly once he had realized his body had been hijacked again, probably trying to get his bearings again. The few people around seemed to be paying no attention to them.

“Oh.”

“No one was hurt, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Bakura started walking again, watching Honda critically. Honda wondered if Bakura was trying to figure out if he was lying. Apparently he passed the test because after half a block Bakura smiled at him.

“Thank you, for keeping him from making a mess.”

Honda didn’t point out that he didn’t think there was any way he could have kept the other Bakura from causing whatever ruckus he wanted to. That wouldn’t make Bakura feel any better.

* * *

After Honda’s reassurance that he hadn’t hurt anyone, or caused any damage, while out of control of his body, Bakura had wandered quietly with Honda in his arms. At Honda’s insistence, he had to try hiding Honda in his jacket, and hugging him through it, to attract less attention.

He hoped that was why Honda hadn’t talked to him much, to keep from attracting unwanted attention. He had always imagined going on a date with Honda, talking and laughing together like the best of friends, their hands brushing and catching at each other as if by accident. They would be the only two who knew how much deeper than playful friendship those simple touches went. Bakura had actually looked forward to the feeling. Instead Honda was silent as Bakura hugged him.

Knowing that life couldn’t match fantasy didn’t help Bakura feel better about the way his playful, loving daydream had not come to fruition. Honda would hardly even talk to him, and even then it was in a strained voice. If he tried to hold Honda closer to compensate, Honda would, more often than not, go completely silent.

Honda had eventually tried to talk him into stopping somewhere for lunch, but Bakura had worried that it might somehow prompt his other self to make another appearance. Though not eating might set him off as well, at least this way Bakura could be on his guard. He wasn’t hungry enough that he couldn’t go without. Besides, it wasn’t as though Honda needed to eat. He would have been glad to go along for lunch with Honda, but he didn’t feel right just having Honda watch him eat.

After a little while, Honda changed from protesting that they stop somewhere for lunch to pointing out that he wanted a change to be let out of Bakura’s jacket. He suggested that they stop somewhere for a snack, so he could spend some time in Bakura’s lap.

Bakura thought it was better to take Honda somewhere nice outside, where they could sit comfortably without a lot of other people around. The outing was for Honda’s sake, after all, and Bakura wasn’t all that hungry.

Of course Honda had protested, he was always caring like that. When Bakura had hugged him tight and tried to explain that it was all right, he had quickly gone silent, though Bakura got the suspicion that he was brooding instead of accepting those hopeful reassurances.

That had been an hour ago. Now it was well into the afternoon, and it had just started to rain. Not enough that Bakura couldn’t see the sun shining through the thin cloud cover, just enough to discourage a most of the people who had been wandering the city park when he had gotten there. The few, random drops of rain weren’t enough to make Bakura want to move. Not yet.

He still had Honda on his lap, snuggled sleepily against his stomach. Bakura wondered if Honda hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before. He hoped that was all it was. He wasn’t completely sure what happened to people who were out of their own bodies for long periods of time. His other self had never deliberately let him in on much. To think Honda would become unresponsive was not too much of a stretch, and not the worst that could happen by any means. Bakura only knew that there must be some physical and mental strain for Honda, being trapped in the wrong body.

When he had started thinking he would keep Honda the way he was, Bakura had only planned on hanging on for a week at the most. He knew he should be able to feel so much happier with Honda this way, because the worst had already happened and Honda was still with him. Not only that, but Bakura was fairly sure that now that Honda was stuck in this body, his other side wouldn’t take any steps to hurt him further.

That small measure of safety and security should have been enough, but Bakura couldn’t get himself to feel content. He was slowly finding that Honda wasn’t the only one missing his body. He did like being able to hold Honda, even in this small, soft body, but it wasn’t the same.

Bakura found himself missing Honda’s body heat, and the way it felt to be drawn into Honda’s arms and held tightly. Missing the feeling of being pressed close to Honda, the feeling of discovering and being discovered with hands alone, was so much keener knowing that Honda was right there. They suddenly couldn’t touch the same way, couldn’t trade the same heated kisses. It had never occurred to Bakura that he would miss it so much. He was embarrassed that he missed it. There was so much more to loving Honda than that.

The knowledge that there were other precious things, some he had lost when Honda had been changed, and some he lost when Honda had gone quiet, and a few he still held safely in his arms, did not make the feeling go away. Bakura wanted Honda to touch him. He wanted everything.

It just felt wrong, having Honda like this. Not only because Honda had been attacked, and not only because of the change in Honda’s body. Even though he had to admit that he missed the way Honda held him, and a thousand other little things that he knew he wouldn’t get back when Honda returned to his body, that wasn’t the part that hurt most.

Honda was miserable, and Bakura had proven himself unable to cheer him up.

He would have to let go of Honda even sooner than he had planned. Bakura turned his thoughts inward, trying to see if the spirit was lurking close enough to the surface that he could speak to him.

All Bakura got for his efforts was an irritated ripple of emotion as the spirit pulled out of range. Apparently he didn’t find Bakura’s dilemma interesting enough to even taunt him about it, let alone have a proper talk with him.

Bakura sighed to himself, rubbing Honda’s back absentmindedly. His other self must be as tired of his problems as Honda was of both of them.

Honda stirred in his lap, looking up as Bakura touched him softly.

“Can you feel anything, like this?”

Honda wrapped his tiny arms around Bakura’s hand. “You’re warm,” was all he offered.

Bakura sighed. At least Honda couldn’t be hurt in this form, but apparently he could barely even feel.

Honda looked up at him, eyes widening as Bakura tried not to let his misery show. He couldn’t keep Honda. Even like this. There really was nothing he could do for Honda. He hadn’t wanted to give Honda up so soon, but it didn’t seem that he had a choice.

“I’m sorry,” Bakura murmured, “for all of this.”

Honda shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is. I couldn’t do anything for you.” Bakura tucked Honda into his jacket and zipped it up. “I’ll put you back. I promise.”

* * *

By the time Bakura reached the hospital, he still hadn’t decided what to do, except that he had to get Honda back to himself somehow, and then convince him that he couldn’t be close to him anymore. He had no idea how to go about doing either.

“Bakura?” Jounouchi grabbed Bakura’s arm as soon as he stepped inside, dragging him to a halt before he could even collect himself enough to find out where Honda’s body was. “What are you doing here?”

“I just. . .” Bakura loosened his grip on Honda, reminding himself that he was probably being squished enough being hidden in his jacket. “I came to see Honda.”

Jounouchi gave him a dark look, “When you have the real thing stashed away at home? Yeah right.”

Honda managed to fight his way up to the neck of Bakura’s jacket so he could look at Jounouchi.

Jounouchi took one look and Honda and his angry expression faded. “Oh.” He tugged on Bakura’s arm. “This way, come on.”

“Shouldn’t I be signing a visitor’s log or something?” Bakura protested.

“No, you should be getting my friend back where he belongs as soon as possible.”

Jounouchi paused as Bakura tried to coax Honda back into his jacket so they would look less suspicious, or at least less ridiculous.

“Sorry,” Jounouchi told Bakura as he guided him past the waiting room and towards the elevators. “I didn’t think you were going to give Honda back,” he grinned Bakura, “I should have known you’d convince him.”

Bakura nodded guiltily. He hadn’t actually managed to convince his other side yet. He just hoped he could manage it if he actually had Honda’s soulless body nearby to prove how important this was. He wished Jounouchi wasn’t around to watch him try this.

He let Honda out in the elevator, and shifted him to the crook of his arm. He wasn’t sure he could keep Honda pressed too close to him at the moment, since he looked frustrated enough to explode any minute. He had thought Honda would at least appreciate that he was trying to get him back into his body.

It wasn’t until Honda started grumbling under his breath that Jounouchi started looking at him strangely as well.

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing. I think.” Bakura rubbed his fingers over Honda’s back. That usually calmed him down, even in his new body.

Jounouchi shook his head and dragged Bakura out of the elevator and down the hall before anyone nearby could get a look at his fuming plushie. He waited until he could drag the two of them into Honda’s room and check for visitors before he tried to talk to Honda.

“What is wrong with you?” He leaned close enough to whisper conspiratorially, “sleeping with multiple personalities finally catching up to you?”

Bakura blushed. He just couldn’t get away from how much the spirit liked to make Honda miserable.

“I need to talk to Bakura,” Honda said, it was obvious from his voice that he was stewing about something, “alone.”

Jounouchi raised one eyebrow at Bakura, but backed up a few feet.

“Wait,” Bakura protested.

“It’s fine. His mom had to leave about ten minutes ago. You can be alone.”

Bakura bit the inside of his cheek. That wasn’t exactly what he had been protesting for.

Jounouchi waved casually. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret, you two.” He paused with the door half open and looked directly at Bakura. “Just get him back.” He paused for a second, looking more worried and hopeful than irritated. “Please,” he added for good measure.

“Bakura,” the quiet edge in Honda’s voice made Bakura tense, “what is wrong with you?”

“I was just trying to help.” Couldn’t Honda see he was doing this all for him? Bakura sat on the floor, hugging Honda lightly. Wasn’t he doing the right thing now that he was trying to make things normal again for Honda?

“I’m not talking about that. You don’t eat, you barely slept last night, and you’ve been walking around in a daze all day. Can’t you take care of yourself?”

“I was worried about you,” Bakura protested, “besides, you wouldn’t even talk to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“I couldn’t talk to you,” Honda ground out, “I couldn’t breathe with you squeezing me.”

Bakura immediately dropped Honda. “I didn’t realize,” he tried to protest, before stopping guiltily. Of course Honda couldn’t say anything to him if he couldn’t even breathe, and he had been sulking about the silence, too. Miserably, Bakura wrapped his arms around himself instead.

“And I didn’t realize your grip was that strong.” Honda stood up in his lap and tugged on Bakura’s shirt. “And don’t start that.”

“What?” Bakura crossed his legs and resisted the urge to pick Honda up again.

“Moping. What is wrong with you?”

Bakura fidgeted, trying to decide if Honda was really trying to ask what was wrong, or if he just wanted an excuse for why he was acting the way he was.

“I’m not sure I can get you back,” Bakura admitted, “he won’t talk to me. I don’t know how to do this myself, but I know I can’t make up for you being stuck this way, so I had to try.”

“Bakura,” Honda’s voice had softened a bit, to Bakura’s surprise. He sounded almost as though he was the one who needed to fix Bakura. “What do you mean you can’t make up for it?”

“I know you want to go back.” Bakura smiled. If Honda didn’t already know what he was talking about, he had no idea how to tell him. He should have known better than to think he could make up for what had happened to Honda, even enough to enjoy having him near for a few more days.

“This isn’t your fault. You just need to-”

Bakura shook his head to silence Honda. He pulled the millennium pendent from under his shirt and stared at it. “I need to try this.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

Bakura tried to concentrate on the pendent, and he thought he could feel something. Something uncoiling, brushing his mind, and lingering a moment to recognize him, before falling back into the pendant itself as he failed to hold it. That might have just been his other self stirring, but he thought it was something more. After a moment the feeling slipped out of his reach again. “Not really.”

Bakura didn’t know what happened next. He could feel himself being thrust out of control of his own body. He floated in the dark for a minute before he was able to re-orient himself enough to see what the spirit was doing with his body. At least he hadn’t been pressed too far down into his subconscious to even see, but he had still been wrenched out of control.

“I’m not putting you back.”

Bakura wanted to protest, but he couldn’t use words here. Instead he opened his mind and let his other self see his frustration, his hope. He was practically begging, and he felt his other self flinch away from his pleas.

“Why not? Why do you even want to do this?”

Bakura tried to push at his other self, to regain control of his body, but he just slid right off. Why couldn’t he at least have the courtesy to let Bakura have his own body this time?

“What can you give me in trade?” The spirit barely paused long enough for Honda to make a face of disgust at him before he told him, “you’re going to be an inconvenience not matter where I put you, so why shouldn’t I keep you this way? You’re cuter.”

“Cute?” Honda spluttered, “How is this cute!?”

The was a flicker of something than might have been embarrassment from the other soul. Bakura touched that fleeting emotion and could feel something from his other self along the lines of: his, untamable, touchable, cute, mine, echoing in his mind, even as he heard the flippant explanation, “anything as squashable as you is cute.”

Honda groaned and plopped himself down in Bakura’s lap. “You could at least challenge me for it or something.”

“I have a better idea.” Bakura felt his body lean forward, though he had no control over it. He felt his lips brush the top of Honda’s head as the one in control of his body whispered, “you’ll owe me.”

“Owe you what?” Honda asked suspiciously.

“Whatever I want.”

“You want me to promise you anything? Without telling me what you want? I might just not deliver.”

Bakura couldn’t suppress his internal shiver as his mouth twisted into a smirk. He was sure the one controlling him had something specific in mind, but he couldn’t get deep enough into his mind to see what exactly it was.

“And I might just stick you back in that body. Think on it.”

Bakura gasped at the jolt as he was reconnected to his own body. He grabbed Honda instinctively, though this time he would have known if his other self had done something to hurt him. “I didn’t realize he would-”

Honda was still. Bakura lifted him carefully, unnerved by the way Honda hung limp from his hands. “Honda?”

Behind him, on the hospital bed, Honda groaned and tried to sit up.

“You’re back!” Bakura dropped the toy and threw his arms around Honda, the real Honda, who had just been returned to his rightful body.

Honda simply stared at him, and Bakura forced himself to let go. Might as well get away from Honda before he did something stupid or reacted the wrong way and got Honda stuck in a toy again.

“I should go. . . phone your parents or something. They’ll want to know you’re awake.” Bakura pushed himself up, away from Honda’s bed, and bolted out of the room.

* * *

It took Honda several minutes to get reoriented to his own body. The room seemed to tip crazily around him when he first opened his eyes. Bakura was hugging him, looking relieved and scared at the same time, and Honda couldn’t help smiling at him. He liked the feeling of Bakura’s arms wrapped snugly around him, even though remembering how Bakura’s hugs could squeeze all the breath out of his body made it almost funny.

At least, he thought he smiled. He couldn’t feel himself move.

Bakura looked crushed. He mumbled something, and released Honda all too quickly.

Then he was gone.

When Honda managed to sit up, Bakura was gone. Jounouchi was peering around the door at him.

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah, where’s-” was as far as Honda got before Jounouchi bounded into the room, grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him an overenthusiastic noogie.

“Geez! You’ve been sleeping for two days, out of bed you lazy idiot!” Honda laughed at the grin on his friend’s face. He knew Jounouchi was glad to see him back to his old self, at least.

“Where did Bakura go?” Honda asked, once he had gotten Jounouchi to let go of his head.

“He ran off.” Jounouchi shrugged. Obviously he didn’t consider that point a big deal.

Honda groaned. He didn’t like the sound of that. He had already more or less willingly entered into a bargain with Bakura’s personal demon, which he had little information about and would rather have no part in. Now Bakura couldn’t even stand to be in the room with him? Was he going to have to bow to the spirit commanding him to stay away from Bakura in return for putting him back in his body?

At least he was back where he belonged, but now what?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fifth and final part of Misunderstanding, at last. I’m sorry for the delay. Hopefully this resolution will help make up for all the time I left poor Honda as a plushie. Please enjoy this last chapter! *bows*

Bakura half expected Honda to corner him as soon as he was out of the hospital to demand answers. He couldn’t see Honda doing anything but coming back to get whatever closure he wanted from Bakura, even avoiding him to keep from getting stuck as a plush toy again seemed a little out of character for Honda. He didn’t expect Honda would just back down.

Maybe he just didn’t want to see Bakura again. That was always a possibility, and made the most sense under the circumstances. Three full days, and he hadn’t even seen Honda at school, let alone gotten deliberate contact from him. Even though Bakura had half expected this reaction, and had tried to look forward to Honda not being in such danger because of him, he found he didn’t particularly like it.

It was actually Jounouchi who ended up coming to interrogate him. That made Bakura extremely nervous. He never knew what Jounouchi was going to come out with next. He couldn’t even tell if his relationship with Honda bothered him or not.

It couldn’t bother him as much as Bakura had thought it did, since the first words out of his mouth when Bakura opened the door were, “why haven’t you gone to see him!?”

“Honda?” Bakura backed up to let Jounouchi inside.

“Who else?” Jounouchi shook his head in frustration. “He won’t settle down, he won’t shut up, asking if we’ve seen you yet, he won’t get off his butt and come see you himself. . .”

“He probably doesn’t want to see me.”

That stopped Jounouchi mid-rant. He stared at Bakura for a minute, as if waiting for some sort of punch line before he retaliated.

“Where do you get these ideas?”

“I-”

“You sure don’t get them from Honda. Is that. . . ring spirit-monster. . . thing telling you that?”

“He probably doesn’t want to get attacked again.”

“You’re assuming he has the sense to think of that,” Jounouchi grumbled. “He just thinks you’re mad at him. He thinks you’re still jealous.”

“I’m not,” Bakura started, but Jounouchi interrupted him.

“It’s none of my business. I’m just here to pass on the message.”

Bakura bit his lip. Jounouchi did not look at all happy to be stuck with this sort of errand. He didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t have wanted to be stuck as a go-between and be mixed up in someone else’s romantic problems. Especially if those problems involved a temperamental and possibly dangerous third party. He would have stayed out of this situation, given a choice.

“Besides, you’d better not be jealous.”

Bakura flushed slightly. “Didn’t you accuse him of making a move on your sister?”

“I got carried away.” Jounouchi wasn’t about to be deterred from the subject he had chosen. “More importantly, he isn’t the kind of scum you seem to think he is.”

Bakura wilted under Jounouchi’s glare. “I don’t think he’s. . .”

“You didn’t trust him at all.”

“I do.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I trust him!”

“Then why won’t you even talk to him?”

“I don’t want him to get hurt. He knows that it’s dangerous just being around me, but he doesn’t seem to care, and he really should.” Bakura tried to cut off his babbling by saying, “I just don’t want him hurt.” Bakura looked at Jounouchi and had to look away quickly. “I think this proved that it’s impossible for me to keep him safe from that. . . my other self.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Bakura didn’t have an answer for that. He wanted to be able to tell Honda, but he knew Honda wouldn’t listen, so he had let the words build up inside his head instead.

“Tell it to him. He thinks you hate him.”

Jounouchi started toward the door and Bakura hurried after him. He knew he could never explain to Honda what was wrong. Honda just wouldn’t take his worries seriously. He would insist that he didn’t care, that he could take care of himself, that he had gotten back fine this time, hadn’t he?

“Just tell him.” Bakura had to grab Jounouchi’s arm to keep him for walking out before he could give him the message. “Tell him I could never hate him. Tell him I’m not mad.”

“You realize I’m not your messenger.”

Bakura slowly let go of Jounouchi’s arm. “Please?”

Jounouchi ran one hand through his hair in exasperation. “I’ll tell him. Just this once,” he insisted, “and only because I’m going that way anyway.” He gave Bakura a suspicious look. “And I’m not giving him a kiss or anything for you.”

“Thank you.”

Jounouchi shrugged and let himself out. “Just make up with him soon. He’s miserable, and he’s driving me crazy.”

Bakura watched Jounouchi close the door behind him, feeling guilty. He couldn’t make up with Honda. Not if that meant he was putting him in danger all over again. He had done too much already. Now he only wanted to make this as painless as possible, because he knew limiting the time he spent with Honda was the only way he could even hope to keep him safe.

He had given up on trying to make his other half see what he saw in Honda.

* * *

“He isn’t mad at you.”

Honda blinked up at Jounouchi, who was leaning over him, looking irritated. He couldn’t believe he had actually gone off to talk to Bakura without being bribed, threatened, or even asked.

“Is that all he said?”

“More or less. There was also some melodrama about you not wanting to see him, which you know and I know is bull, and he claims he trusts you, though with the way he’s acting I say he doesn’t, and something about you getting hurt, and I am not going back for a clarification,” Jounouchi finished quickly.

“That’s all?” Honda was sure Jounouchi had glossed over something, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. He was equally sure that Jounouchi had been vague to get him to go talk to Bakura himself, so he couldn’t ask.

“More or less.” Jounouchi thought for a minute. “Oh, and he definitely wanted me to tell you he couldn’t hate you, though I have no idea why he thought that was important.” Jounouchi looked to Honda for clarification, but Honda simply shrugged. It might have something to do with the fact that the spirit seemed to hate him, but he couldn’t be sure.

“I’m guessing he isn’t coming, if he sent a message.”

“Then go get him yourself.”

“Doesn’t sound like he wants to see me.”

“Dude.” Jounouchi put one hand on Honda’s back and gave him a shove towards the door. “Go do something with yourself before you lose it completely. I’m not putting up with you if you get any crazier, you know.”

Honda knew Jounouchi was right, though he wasn’t in a mood to admit that. He just didn’t think he could put up with Bakura ignoring him any longer.

* * *

When he got to Bakura’s home it seemed that Bakura was still intent on ignoring him. The door was locked, and no matter how hard Honda pounded on it, he didn’t get an answer.

When Honda looked in the window he could see Bakura sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, plainly trying to ignore him. Honda waved madly to get Bakura’s attention, though he was half sure Bakura would already know it was him. Bakura looked up, spotted him, and froze.

The look of fear on Bakura’s face was not a flattering reaction. Honda did not like the idea of Bakura being afraid to receive a visit from him. On top of that, Bakura still made no move to let him in.

Honda didn’t like the idea of forcing Bakura’s hand, but he couldn’t stand to leave without talking to him now that he had seen him.

The one who finally opened the door, after Honda had stood outside it for almost half an hour to make it plain he wasn’t about to give up and leave, wasn’t Bakura. The spirit had stolen his body once again. “You’re a real pest,” he told Honda, by way of greeting, but at least he let him in.

“Let me talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk. I thought you would have noticed by now.”

“Just let me see him. He can’t avoid me forever.”

“Nope.” The spirit looked particularly amused at Honda’s frustration.

“Then you’ll have to give him a message for me.” Honda didn’t feel like wasting any more time trying to argue. He grabbed Bakura by the shoulders, pulled him forward, and kissed him firmly. The spirit made a loud noise of surprise and tried to squirm away, but Honda wasn’t about to let him go that easily.

“Stop that you idiot!” he cried when Honda allowed him a chance to use his mouth again.

“I’m not going to stop. You’ll just have to tell him to get out here and take what’s his.” Honda pressed in and kissed Bakura again, hugging him tightly against his chest when he tried to squirm away. He was determined not to feel guilty forcing kisses on the wrong Bakura, not after the way he had been harassed, and especially not when he had such an easy escape route.

When he pulled back again, he found his own Bakura staring up at him, trembling and breathing hard.

“What are you doing?”

“I had to see you.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Bakura pushed Honda away so that he could sit up. Honda tried to catch his eye, but Bakura looked down quickly. He kept his gaze fixed on his feet, no matter how desperately Honda tried to catch his eye.

And Honda had thought that if he could just get close enough to talk to Bakura, everything would be solved. How foolish.

“You didn’t want to see me?”

Bakura hesitated for a long moment, gulped hard, and then whispered, “no. I didn’t.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. I don’t think we should keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” Honda had a sinking suspicion that he knew what Bakura meant.

“Seeing each other.” Bakura snuck a look up at Honda’s face, so quickly Honda couldn’t be sure he had really seen it. “It’s not right. Not after what happened to you.”

“Don’t take it so hard. All couples fight over something or other. It was no big deal.” Honda reached over to rub Bakura’s shoulder gently, only to have Bakura flinch away from his hand.

“Normal lover’s spats do not end with someone trapped in a plush toy.”

“Maybe not.” Honda considered the possible comfort he could offer by touching Bakura, against the possibility that it would make him feel worse and jerk away again. He stopped short of embracing Bakura again. “But I don’t mind.”

Bakura took a moment to look at Honda as if he had gone out of his mind before saying, “no normal person would want to stay with someone with an alternate personality who attacks them on a regular basis.”

“Guess I’m not normal, then.”

“Honda,” Bakura protested miserably.

“What?” The spirit hadn’t been quite so bad lately. Okay, so he had harassed Honda continually when he was a plushie. He had at least been playful about it, which was new, and he hadn’t done any real damage. “He’s kind of cute.”

“Honda!” Bakura looked shocked.

Honda held up his hands, trying to pacify Bakura and show he was joking. “Yeah, you kinda have to squint to see it, but he’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

“Cute?” Bakura couldn’t let it go.

“Yeah. I think he gets that part from you.” Honda reached over to rub gently at Bakura’s shoulder, encouraged by the fact that Bakura was actually looking at him now. “Look, he’s not someone I would choose to be around myself, but when he’s part of you. . . I don’t mind so much.”

“Now I know you’ve lost your mind,” Bakura whispered.

“No, I just got used to having him around.” Honda shrugged. “Now do you want to tell me what’s really upsetting you?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t mind,” Bakura snapped. “You never wanted to take me out in public because of the damage he might cause! And you would never push me, never give me a chance, because you didn’t want him to come out and spoil everything for you. You never did anything with me because he was there!”

Honda had to grab Bakura and hold him to keep him from getting off of the couch and fleeing. “Bakura, stop it! You should know I don’t give a damn about what he does. I never wanted to push you because I love you. I just wanted you to be comfortable.”

Bakura was shaking under him, no longer able to look him in the eye. Honda waited a moment for him to pull himself together and present another argument, but he seemed too scared to.

“Besides, I don’t see what any of that has to do with you being jealous of someone you didn’t even recognize.”

“I don’t care who she was.” Bakura hid his face in his hands, but they didn’t do much to muffle his voice when he shouted, “I would be jealous of anyone without an evil twin!”

“I don’t care!” Honda grabbed Bakura’s hands and yanked them away from his face. “They wouldn’t be you. I only want you! What can I do to prove that to you?”

Bakura let out a pained noise, but didn’t try to fight back. Honda relaxed his grip slowly, worrying that he had hurt Bakura, or scared him. He had only meant to show him that the things that Bakura was so worried about would not spoil any of the love they had collected between them, but now he realized shouting at him wasn’t the way to go about making him feel better.

After a moment, though, Bakura started laughing softly.

“What is it?”

“I,” Bakura made a strained noise that made Honda think he was trying his best not to laugh but couldn’t help himself. “He says you’ve gotten us mixed up because . . . because you kissed him, and now you’re yelling at me and it’s always the other way around.”

Honda felt a smile twitch at his lips as Bakura laughed helplessly. He sounded as if he was on the verge of tears, but at lest he was laughing now, not crying.

“I’ll have to fix that,” Honda told Bakura, bending close to him. “Just so you don’t think I’ve gone and declared my love to the wrong person.”

Bakura’s giggles died as Honda kissed him tenderly. He wanted to do so much more for Bakura, but for right now the kissing was enough. It felt a lot more effective than arguing with him, too.

“You know I love you,” Honda whispered, “I can’t keep myself from loving you. Not for his sake.”

Bakura let out a tiny, sad sound. Honda thought for a moment he wasn’t listening again, until he answered, “I don’t want you to stop.”

“Then could you explain why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“You’re not taking this seriously enough! I might not be able stop him in time if he attacks you again. I don’t want you hurt again, or changed forever. If there’s nothing else I can do, I. . .”

Honda sighed. Bakura was right that there wasn’t much either of them could do to prevent another attack. “And you’re taking this too seriously. I don’t exactly want that either, but you should know how stubborn I can be. I want you, and I won’t be chased away as long as you want me back.”

Bakura let out another weak little laugh and Honda smiled gently at him, trying to encourage it. As long as Bakura was laughing he wouldn’t be able to cry.

“You know, I worry about you too.” He poked Bakura’s cheek playfully. “You can’t go making yourself sick worrying about me. Especially worrying about me not loving you anymore, or not loving you enough. I won’t have it.”

Honda bent and silenced the protests he knew Bakura would come up with in a firm kiss. He slowly kissed Bakura silly. Honda nuzzled at him lovingly until he looked too caught up in that to protest about anything else.

For a few minutes there was silence. Bakura seemed to have forgotten how to talk, and Honda was too content after kissing Bakura to try to find words that fit.

“I’m not worrying that you won’t love me,” Bakura finally said, “I think you love me too much.”

“Hm?” Honda gazed dreamily down at Bakura, not following his implication. “Meaning what?”

“You’re not even thinking of taking care of yourself.” Bakura turned and buried his face in the sofa. Honda thought he must be hiding to avoid being talked into abandoning his worry. “You don’t have an sense of self-preservation when it comes to me, do you?” his voice was muffled by the sofa pillow his face was hidden against.

“I have plenty of self-preservation skills!” Honda protested, “I just. . . don’t use them so much around you.” Maybe Bakura had a point.

“You see why I have to stay away from you, then?” Bakura looked back up at him. Honda thought he could see tears gathering in Bakura’s eyes.

Oh no. If there was one thing Honda was sure of, it was that he would always protect Bakura. He did not want to make Bakura cry.

For the first time it occurred to him that it was possible Bakura didn’t really want to succeed in chasing him away. He was sure Bakura would have wanted a way where they could be close to one another and be safe at the same time. The fact that he was trying to fight Honda away now must mean that he had run out of ideas for how to do that.

Honda took Bakura’s hands in his. He had at least one idea he would have to try, if he was going to keep Bakura. “Let me talk to him.”

Bakura shook his head miserably, but after a second he seemed to change. His eyes glazed over for a second, and when they refocused, Bakura’s expression was more serious than tearful.

“What do you want now?”

Honda shrugged and leaned back against the armrest, releasing his grip on Bakura. He hadn’t exactly planned out what he was going to say or do next time he was confronted by this other Bakura. He just wanted to work something out so that Bakura wouldn’t worry about him any more.

“I thought we could cut a deal.”

Bakura smirked at him. It didn’t make Honda quite as uneasy as it once would have, seeing an expression like that on Bakura’s face.

“You already owe me a favor, why should I make a deal with you?”

Honda grinned. “If I’d known I would need to talk to you again this soon I’d’ve brought a bribe.” Apparently the spirit wanted to toy with him, and that was better than refusing him outright.

“Good boy.”

Honda sat forward a little, his hand brushing Bakura’s knee. “This is for him, you realize.”

The spirit snorted and pulled his knees up and away of Honda’s hands. “My host.”

“For Bakura,” Honda corrected. He put his hand on Bakura’s knee again just to annoy the spirit. “We’re making him miserable.”

“I’m surprised you’re willing to admit to any part in this.” Bakura sat forward so that he was nose to nose with Honda. He swatted Honda’s hand off of his knee before saying, “so what do you expect me to do? You’re the one making him miserable.”

Honda sighed in frustration. “Somehow, I think it was you sealing me in a toy that bothered him the most.”

“Hm. That was for your own good, you know.”

Honda raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “How do you figure that?”

“You got to stay close to him like that. That was what you wanted, right? Ingrate.”

“Not really.” Honda was beginning to think he should have known better than to try and reason with the spirit. “Besides, we both know that it made him miserable.”

“Only because you were sulking about it.”

“Or maybe because he didn’t want you to do it in the first place.”

“He was all set to enjoy having you around and you ruined it.”

“He’s not like that, and we both know it.”

“Isn’t he?” Bakura grinned in triumph. “You should have heard him, inside his head all he could think about was keeping you.” He reached up to pet Honda’s hair. “You were so tiny and cute he couldn’t resist. Just for a week, he told me, just for a few days, because he knew he would have to give you up when it was over.”

Honda sat back, nearly slipping off of the couch as he tried to put some distance between himself and Bakura. Not his Bakura. He shouldn’t need to be reminded of that by now. “You’re lying.”

“He wanted you so much, if you had just given him a day or two he never would have been able to let you go.”

Honda couldn’t look at the fiendish grin the spirit was giving him. Bakura couldn’t have thought that was the only way that they could stay together. “Why?”

“Because he could have you with him all the time. Weren’t you paying attention? You made him so jealous he couldn’t stand the thought of giving you up.”

Honda had almost believed that, up until Bakura had burst out with the confession that he would be jealous of anyone without an evil twin. There was far more than simple jealousy at work here. “That’s not it.” Honda shook his head, trying to jar his thoughts loose. “He must have thought you couldn’t do anything to me when I was already like that.”

Bakura didn’t confirm or deny this, he simply watched Honda turn on him.

“He just didn’t want you to do any more damage.” Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Bakura had tried the same thing back when they had first met, trying to distance himself from his new friends when he realized that he could end up seriously hurting them.

“Would you shut up!? I can’t argue with both of you at once.”

Honda moved back towards Bakura, putting his hands on Bakura’s shoulders and pressing him down into the armrest. “Can he hear me?”

“Shut up.”

“Bakura,” Honda called, hoping words would get through to reassure him somehow, “it’ll be alright. You know this wasn’t your fault. You didn’t want this.”

“Yes he did.”

“I know you didn’t want anything to happen to me, but I can take care of myself.” Honda kissed Bakura’s lips softly before whispering, “I hope you can still feel me.”

“Stop that!”

“You have to stop doing things like this and telling him it’s for his sake.”

“Of course I’m going to protect my host, you idiot.”

Honda changed tracks. “Then that’s why you let me back into my body. You knew it would make him feel better.” Honda grinned, and couldn’t resist kissing the spirit again, just to annoy him. “I have to commend you for that, but I guess it means I don’t owe you anything. You benefitted from it too, after all.”

“Don’t go making decisions like that on your own!”

“Hm.” Honda studied the spirit for another moment, trying to think of a way out of this cycle, before he got stuck in a toy again. “Let’s make a deal. The day I make your ‘host’ unhappy, you can do what you like with me.”

Bakura seemed to consider this. For a moment Honda couldn’t tell which one he was speaking to. It almost seemed as though they were both there at the surface, though he had always thought that would be impossible. He was sure he could see Bakura’s dismay as clearly as the spirit’s expression of consideration.

“He says ‘no.’”

“Tell him that this is between you and me.” Honda paused, thinking over what he had just said before changing his mind. “No. Tell him it’s his choice.”

“Why should it be? He can’t even control it.”

“Then tell him I never intend to make him unhappy. So you’ll never have a reason to change me for his sake, right?” Honda wondered if he should have held out for the not-getting-attacked-for-any-reason agreement, but he knew that would never stick. At least this way Bakura might feel a little better.

Honda bent down and nuzzled Bakura lightly. “Do we have a deal? As long as I can make him happy on my own, you won’t step in.”

The spirit grumbled. Honda was starting to think that he had sealed him in that plushie because he wanted to more than for Bakura’s sake, but it was a little late to call him on that.

“Maybe,” was the grudging answer.

Honda knew he probably should have expected something like that, but it was okay. If it made Bakura happy, it was enough for now.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Bakura whispered after a moment.

“Glad to have you back,” Honda told him. He kissed Bakura softly. He hoped he could have Bakura to himself for a while for once, without interruptions from the spirit.

“Honda, wait,” Bakura protested. He held up his hands to keep Honda from interrupting him with kisses, but Honda simply nibbled at his fingertips. “This doesn’t change anything.”

“It does.” Honda caught Bakura’s hands and pulled them out of the way. “I know the dangerous side of dating you, and it’s not enough to keep me away.” Honda stole another kiss before Bakura could try to fend him off again. “I know you’re worried, and I’m going to do everything in my power to keep your fears at rest.”

“But-”

“Everything except leaving you alone,” Honda amended quickly. “You don’t really want me to leave, do you?”

Bakura bit his lip nervously. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Honda was starting to worry that Bakura really didn’t want him around. Even though he was sure the reason Bakura was putting up such a fuss was that he cared, Honda couldn’t help wondering. More than anything, he wanted Bakura to want him.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Bakura finally admitted. He wrapped his arms around Honda’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Do you think I would be trying so hard to protect you if I didn’t mind losing you?”

Honda couldn’t help smiling. “I wanted to hear you say it,” he explained. He wouldn’t tell Bakura how worried he had been, but that much was the perfect truth.

Bakura seemed to know somehow, even without Honda admitting it. He kissed Honda’s ear playfully. “You know I want you close to me.”

“Of course I know.” He knew because he trusted the feeling whenever Bakura asked him to stay.

Bakura smiled. He kissed his way down to Honda’s cheek and murmured, “you know I want you here.”

Honda cupped Bakura’s cheek with one hand, not firmly enough to keep him from moving further, just for the sake of touching him. “I know. I want to be here.” He decided he liked this game, and he didn’t want to do anything to discourage Bakura from continuing.

A slight pause, as Bakura’s lips brushed playfully close to his nose, then Honda received a soft peck on the lips. He smiled at the feeling.

“You know I-”

Honda interrupted by giving Bakura a quick, firm kiss.

“What was that for?”

“I wanted to.” Honda cupped his hand a little more firmly to Bakura’s cheek. “I wanted to show you that I love you the same.”

“And what if that wasn’t what I was going to say?” Bakura’s teasing tone was music to Honda’s ears. It meant he was no longer nursing so much hurt and fear that his mind was completely taken up with it, that he no longer had it eating away at him until he couldn’t smile.

“Then I’m going to have to give you a lot more kisses, until you change your mind about that.” Honda quickly matched actions to words, kissing Bakura again before he could argue about it.

Bakura let out a soft sigh, one Honda felt as warm breath against his mouth more than an actual sound. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. I should have come sooner.” He would have been at Bakura’s side in mere hours if he’d thought this would be his reward. He had allowed himself to start thinking that Bakura honestly wanted the distance, for more than Honda’s protection, and he had been afraid of the silence.

To his surprise, he realized Bakura was blushing.

“But I. . . it was also this. The whole time, I missed this.”

“What?” Honda had missed being close to Bakura too, during those silent days since he had woken up back in his own body, but he got the feeling Bakura was talking about something else.

Bakura snuggled against him, making himself more comfortable. His slowly spreading blush actually gave Honda an extra clue when he whispered, “this,” then kissed him softly.

In Honda’s mind, everything clicked into place. If asked, he would have admitted he missed kissing Bakura, touching him with his own two hands, and being able to hold all of him close and safe in his arms. It had only been a few days to miss touching Bakura with his own hands, but there was something more than that. He couldn’t have described it as anything more than being close to Bakura, but he knew Bakura was trying to express the same thing.

“I missed this too.”


End file.
